


Family Dinner

by PineappleQueen17



Series: A Greek God AU [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Genre: A Greek God AU, Family Bonding, Family Dinner Time!, Fluff, Gen, How did the agnst get in here? I have no idea, M/M, Meet the Family, Meeting your significant other's family for the first time, and agnst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25324147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineappleQueen17/pseuds/PineappleQueen17
Summary: Roy goes to the Underworld in order to come to Wayne family dinner.In order for this to make sense, you'd need to read the first in the series.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Series: A Greek God AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833850
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Family Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Bruce and Alfred prepare for the family dinner with Roy.

The pale green and blue firelight danced off the obsidian walls. Alfred wished that they could get proper lighting in the main dining hall, but Master Bruce always had a flair for the dramatic. But it was awfully dreary, and perhaps a warmer touch would make the visiting sun god feel more at ease. Making up his mind, Alfred snapped his fingers and the room was filled with golden light. He took a look around and was quite pleased with its new appearance. Perhaps he would keep it like this all the time.

Satisfied with the adjustments, Alfred turned his ruthlessly efficient gaze to making sure the table was set properly. Master Bruce would almost certainly try to persuade Alfred that everything was fine, there were servants and magic aplenty to make sure that everything was in order. And Alfred would almost certainly raise an eyebrow and explain to his charge for the hundredth time, that he was god of hospitality and that Bruce could deprive him of this habit over his cold, dead body.

Speaking of the devil, Bruce entered the room, looking over the change in lighting. He opened his mouth to say _something,_ but Alfred didn’t even let him start.

“The yellow makes it look warmer and more hospitable. I don’t care how much you don’t approve of Roy, you are not scaring him off via poor lighting.”

Bruce pursed his lips and said nothing on the subject. “Do you need help with anything?” 

“No, everything is just about done.” At this point Alfred was just going about making sure the napkins were folded properly.

Without saying anything, Bruce joined Alfred in folding the napkins. Alfred’s mouth quirked upwards. Most of the children never learned how to fold properly, getting distracted too easily, and never being able to sit still long enough to get the clean, crisp lines of the napkins right. Besides, they’re hearts and minds were never into it.

But he remembers a time, when it was just him and a young boy with a round, sad face in a too big palace. One time, the small little boy had started wandering the endless fields of asphodel, looking for his missing parents.

Dead mortals go to the underworld. No one knows where dead gods go.

Alfred remembers leaving his post, until he found the young god, sleeping. His small body making a circular indent. He remembers picking up the sleeping child, who barely weighed more than a shadow, and bringing into the palace. But instead of leaving him in one of the large bedrooms, in one of the large wings that threatened to swallow the boy whole, he brought him into the kitchen and whisked away the servants so it was only the two of them. He set the boy down near the fire and began washing the dishes and various other chores.

When the boy awoke, he wandered over to where Alfred was sitting folding napkins. Alfred simply handed him a napkin and slowly walked him through the process of folding a napkin. Once it was evident he had mastered the simple way that allowed the cutlery to be put into the fold, he taught him how to make a rose, a heart, a million other ways to fold a napkin.

Sometimes, it was hard for Alfred to reconcile the small boy he carried home, into the man that stood before him. But, the slow, deliberate, repetitive motions of his ward folding a napkin made those thousands of years fade away.

They sat in silence, before Bruce broke the silence. “What if we don’t get along?”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, partially in amusement and partially in shock that Bruce cared about Roy’s opinion at all. But otherwise, he didn’t miss a beat. “Why wouldn’t everyone get along?”

Bruce furrowed his brow. “It can be… dark down here. He might think we’re too... gloomy.”

“Master Bruce,” Alfred said, exasperated. “He’s dating Jason. If he disapproved of the dark and gloominess, we bloody well wouldn’t be having this dinner in the first place.”

“But what if it’s awkward?” He pestered. The floodgates of worries and anxieties had opened, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. But Alfred would do his best to soothe it.

“It is guaranteed to be awkward. Meeting your significant other’s family for the first time is an awkward occasion for everyone involved. It is simply a fact of life.”

“What if Jason is embarrassed by us? Or resents me for being too…” He gestured vaguely to himself.

“Then he’ll be embarrassed for a decade or two and then forget all about it. You will both learn how to move on. And if Roy sticks around, which I suspect he will, you will have more than enough time to win him over.” The tension in Bruce’s body was still there, but it had lessened marginally. “Go find Dick and spar with him, it will help both of you work out some energy before dinner.”

Bruce nodded and stopped his folding. He got up and started towards the hallway, but stopped in the doorway.

“Alfred?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” His words rushed out of his mouth. “I appreciate it.”

Alfred gave him a soft look. “Of course, anytime.”

“And one last thing.”

Alfred hummed.

“The lighting looks lovely.” And with that, he disappeared into the shadows.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I add several, unnecessary underworld/ death puns? Did I repeatedly unconsciously project my thoughts/ feelings/ problems onto the characters? The world may never know.  
> Alright, this is neither here nor there, but I fell in love with the idea of Alfred as the god of hospitality? Like, making sure the home is in immaculate condition, but also as the ferryman being able to welcome the souls into the Underworld, and being a sort of calming, welcoming figure to the newly dead. IDK, I just really like it.  
> If you’re confused how Alfred and Bruce ended up bonding over folding napkins, don’t worry, you’re not alone. I have no idea how it happened.


End file.
